


three cheers for tyranny

by kishere



Series: on my heart, you remain [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Bullying, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 06:42:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kishere/pseuds/kishere
Summary: Lord Dan Howell could have anything he wanted except the one thing his rebellious heart desired: a tattoo. After escaping his bodyguard for the first time since he had turned 18, he ends up at Lester's Tattoo and Piercings.Voted 3rd Place, Best Fantasy Fic in the 2019 phanficawards on tumblr





	three cheers for tyranny

For a man who could have almost anything that he wanted, Dan thought, he really had to pick the one thing he wasn’t supposed to have. Well, one of the things he wasn’t supposed to have. Like there wasn’t a single law about it on the books (since it was 2010 for god’s sake), but when he brought up doing this one thing for himself, his family had looked at him like he had asked for help disposing of a body. His mother had refused to take him ( _ “How would that look for the family name Daniel” _ ) while his father hadn’t said anything, just sat there stony-faced until Dan had cowed and apologized through gritted teeth for the suggestion. The rest of dinner in the overly ornate hall was silent, something even his chatty younger brother Adrian couldn’t fix. 

So here he, Lord Daniel Howell (the next Duke of Reading), was, wearing a black hoodie and sunglasses in the hot summer, sneaking around like a rat (like his governess would call him from ages six to twelve). He didn’t  _ want _ to look like an utter douchebag with his hoodie up and sunglasses on, but since he had to escape long enough for no one to notice the fact he was a duke, he needed to hide his identity a little. God the fact he had a hoodie on  _ alone _ would throw his mother into hysterics, lamenting how he had so many nice brand name shirts that he didn’t have to indulge in street fashion that made him look “so rumpled”. But he had managed to slip out from under Robert’s over-observant eye and he wasn’t going to waste this opportunity. He had hit up an ATM, which had already annoyed him since it would give away his location, and had enough cash to get what he wanted. He hurried down the street to the storefront that he had been obsessively researching for weeks.

Lester’s Tattoos and Piercings. 

He had read the reviews, had asked around whenever he heard the name dropped at a party (not that he got to go to many of them, living off campus and all at the behest of his father), and everything pointed to this being one of the best tattoo parlours in the area. He looked longingly at the word piercings, wishing he could get his ears re-pierced, but knowing that the fight his father would have with him about it wouldn’t be worth it. He shook his head and walked inside, pushing the door open and blinking in surprise.

Dan wasn’t sure what he was expecting from a tattoo shop but it probably wasn’t this. For one, it was cleaner and much homier. Surrounding the small room was frame upon frame of artwork across a variety of skin tones and some on actual paper. There were a few armchairs scattered around the lobby and at the wooden desk was a man not much older than Dan. He was bent over a piece of paper and from what Dan could tell, his arms were littered with tattoos. Dan didn’t want to disturb him, but he didn’t have a lot of time left if he wanted to get his tattoo.

“H-hello,” Dan said, stuttering as he slid the hood off his head. He looked out and felt his heart stop as he stared into the other’s face.It wasn’t fair, Dan thought, staring at the way the other man had the most perfect, black emo fringe he had seen outside of MySpace. He fixed his own fringe as he stared at the other, suddenly self-conscious of how he looked.

“Hi,” the emo poster model chirped cheerfully at him. “Welcome to Lester’s Tattoos and Piercings. My name’s Phil. What can we do you for today?”

Dan was used to a Northern accent by now, living and going to university in Manchester, but this accent mixed with that voice, wrapped itself around Dan’s shoulders and made him want to listen for hours when he had forty-five minutes at most. Dan felt himself go red and he pulled off his sunglasses, shoving them into his kangaroo pocket.

_ Oh no _ , Dan thought, that made it worse. Because now Dan could see that the other had the most amazing blue eyes that looked like the kaleidoscopes Dan would get from Nan and Popsie as a child, a collage of blue, green, and yellow. Dan felt his brain physically reboot as he stared into them for a moment before realizing he hadn’t answered the question.

“A tattoo!! I want a tattoo,” Dan explained, digging into his trousers for his wallet. He pulled out a piece of paper and presented the lyrics he wanted on his body. He had scribbled them down and saw Phil’s eyes narrow critically.

“How posh. Did...did you want it in this handwriting?” Phil asked, his tone conveying that he  _ prayed _ it wouldn’t be in Dan’s chicken scratch writing. 

“No,” Dan said, fervent to assure Phil he didn’t want his own handwriting on his body.

“Okay,” Phil said, looking a little more assured that Dan wasn’t an insane person. Dan knew his handwriting was trash. Phil rolled his chair backwards, giving Dan a much better view of the Zelda shirt he was wearing. He turned to his left and pulled a binder out of a bookcase, then rolled back towards Dan and handed the binder to him. “Take a look through here and see if any of the text strikes your fancy. Lucky for you I’m in today and not my dad. He’s okay at texts but his main passion is art.”

“Mmmm,” Dan agreed quietly, looking through the binder and ignoring the way his phone started to vibrate against his thigh. He finally paused about half-way through the book and pointed at a bold, traditional-looking font that had little hashes on the straight lines. “This one.”

“Oh, that’s a good choice!” Phil exclaimed, looking excited. His blue eyes sparkled and Dan wanted to drown in them. “Almost no one chooses that one, which is a crying shame. It’s so fun.”

Dan smiled, a little shy, and stared down at Phil’s arms, now absorbed in a new sea of colour. “Thank you? I think?”

“You’re very welcome. You have good taste,” Phil said, turning from Dan to pull out a clipboard that seemed to be pre-made up, the forms and the pen stuck under the clip. “Okay I need you to fill this out and I need to borrow your ID real quick.”

Dan felt his throat close up, but he pulled out his wallet again and took out his ID. He waited nervously as Phil looked it over.

“Beautiful,” Phil said, making Dan nearly choke on air, “you’re over eighteen. Just need to make a copy of this.” 

“If you’re sure,” Dan muttered as he filled out the paperwork, causing Phil to pause.

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t?” Phil asked, pulling the ID closer to his face to inspect it.

“It’s real, I promise,” Dan assured him, continuing to fill out the paperwork, filling in his current address here in Manchester. “I was just being sarcastic.”

Phil narrowed his eyes at the other but went to the printer and copied his ID, holding on to it until Dan handed him back the paperwork. He handed it back to Dan, their fingers brushing. The shock of it caused Dan to fumble with his ID, almost dropping it. Dan didn’t even know why he was so flustered. This guy was going to ink something permanently into his skin and then Dan would leave and never come back. It would be fine.

“Where were you thinking of getting the tattoo?” Phil asked finally, his body looking like he’s vibrating with excitement for Dan. 

“Just on my ribs,” Dan replied, watching as Phil’s eyebrows rose. Had he said something wrong? He knew plenty of people that have tattoos on their ribcage. Hell, he saw someone just last week with a tattoo on their ribcage. 

“This your first tattoo?” Phil asked.

“Yeah, I’m really excited,” Dan replied, feeling himself beam at the other man.

“And you chose the ribs,” Phil asked, disbelief colouring his tone. “You must have a high pain tolerance.” 

Dan thought about the time he got his head beat against a coat peg in gym back in boarding school because the school bully thought he was queer. “I guess you could say that.”

“Okay, give me a minute to work on the stencil and then we’ll take you to the back to get you all prepped to go,” Phil said after a long pause, smiling ( _ was that pity, why was Phil pitying him? _ ) at him as he rolled up to the computer, and then Dan heard the clicking of a mouse. Dan took this time to walk around the room and examine all the art, noticing they seemed to be grouped by a particular style. Some reminded Dan of old fashioned sailor tattoos while others were hyper-realistic drawings of cats and dogs. There were also smaller sheets occasionally that said Flash Sheets at the top. There was one that was entirely made up of video game designs and Dan was pretty sure Phil did this one. 

_ Bzzzt. _

_ Bzzzt.  _

Dan ignored the vibrating in his pocket and continued to look around until Phil called him over. 

“Does this look okay?” Phil asked him. He tilted the monitor towards Dan so he could see the size. “We can make it bigger or smaller depending on where exactly you want it. But as a starting point, what do you think? Do you like the shape of them? The curve?”

Dan stared at the words, unable to process that soon they would be on his body, permanently. “I like the lettering and how it curves. But the size… I think I need to see them like… on my body? Or near my body? I’m scared I’m going to say yes and I’ll end up hating it forever.”

“That’s fair and pretty normal for the first time people get tattooed,” Phil said with a laugh, hitting print on the program he was working on, the picture printing out on what looked like wax paper. Phil carefully picked up the paper and set it carefully down on the desk. “I’m going to print it in another two sizes if that’s okay? One bigger than this and one smaller.”

Dan felt himself relax in relief and he nodded. He really hoped, as he felt his phone buzz again in his pocket, that he would love the first size and he wouldn’t have to Goldilocks through the sizes to find the right one. 

“Okay,” Phil said after a few moments and the printer had finished. “Let’s get you to the back. Little more comfortable than having you just whip your shirt off here in the front.”

Dan wanted to ask if Phil had done that before. Just walked in the door of what he was guessing was a family tattoo business, whipped his shirt off and... Dan needed to get laid, he thought idly as he followed Phil into the back, his mouth dropping because there was even more art on the wall, the only difference was that it was set up above four different setups. 

One was very minimal and clean, with white porcelain vases that held bright flowers. On the mirror, written in crisp, “girly” font, was the name Cornelia. It looked so...sweet, the metal of the table mixed with bright wildflowers on shelves high above the table. The frames above this station were a bit more sparse and included a close up of a labelled ear and a face, both of which were pierced to death. On the table were a variety of meticulously labelled boxes with different metal bits in them. Piercings, Dan realized as he turned his attention to the table next to them. 

The one next to the had a huge stereo set up on the table, nowhere near as neat as the one belonging to Cornelia, smeared with ink while the shelves where crammed with bottles of ink interspersed with CD upon CD. Honestly, it looked more like aDJ studio than a tattooist station, Dan thought idly as he walked by. The art on the wall looked like the tattoos up front that reminded Dan of sailors, with a few flowers mixed in. 

Across from that was a station that had ink and a framed photo of a woman on it. That’s it. It was so sparse, Dan wondered if it was a catch-all for everyone else’s junk except for how neat it was. Dan turned his head away from it, confused by the point of calm in a fairly chaotic room. 

Dan didn’t even need to see the label of “Phil : D” on the mirror to know this was Phil’s station, mainly from powers of deduction. Surrounding the mirror, which was covered in fairy lights, were frames of typography and video game designs. There was a ceramic guinea pig on the table, which made Dan raise an eyebrow, because he just didn’t understand why it was there. There was a metal case open on the table that Dan looked into and saw something about the size of a glue gun. But sharper. And that was going to poke at his body a few thousand times. 

“Okay,” Phil said, turning to face Dan, clapping his hands together before rubbing them together, a Bic razor rubbing between them. “Hoodie and shirt off, please. Gotta figure out the placement and then shave you up a bit. Sorry mate.”

“It’s okay,” Dan said, before pulling his hoodie and shirt off of him in one go, feeling grateful he had taken the advice to wear baggy clothing for the first few days of having a tattoo. “It’s not like I had a lot to start with.”

“Yeah,” Phil said, staring at Dan’s bare chest for a moment before picking up the original he had printed and holding it near Dan’s chest. “Use the mirror and take my wrist and show me where you want this on your body.”

Dan scooted in front of the mirror and took Phil’s (rather) bony wrist in his hand and adjusted where he was placing the stencil until it curled on his rib cage underneath his (less than defined) pectorals. He was relieved to see that he actually rather liked the size on his body. It’s not that he wanted this to be a large statement piece, he was the only one who was going to see it consistently anyway. This was something for just him, since his future was laid out for him in such a inexorable way. He just wanted this one thing. “Here, please.”

“Of course,” Phil said, a nervous look coming back on his face. Dan wondered what it was about his ribs that kept making Phil so nervous. Was he heavy-handed? Was he going to stab Dan straight through his rib cage? “Let me shave the area. Can you hold this in place for a second so I can mark the edges?”

“Yes,” Dan agreed easily, using his right hand to hold the stencil in place while Phil turned to his table and grabbed a ballpoint. He spidered his fingers so they were encasing Dan’s hand and he did some quick hatch marks on Dan’s skin where the paper of the stencil ended. Their hands were so close and Dan felt reassured at how steady Phil’s hands were above his, not shaking at all. He then removed his hand and looked up at Dan. “It’ll be on you soon, but for now, can I have the stencil.”

“Oh, yeah mate, here you go,” Dan said before letting go of the stencil and handing it back to Phil, who set it on the work table. He leaned down in front of Dan and with a few quick swipes, shaved off the lighter hair that grew there. “So even if I don’t have any hair, you still have to shave?”

“Well, your whole body is covered in hair,” Phil explained as he grabbed the stencil and laid it back on Dan’s skin. “Wotchit, it’ll be a little cold, but we just have to make sure those finer hair are out of the way too since it could make the lines look terrible. Waste of ink otherwise.”

“Ohhhhh,” Dan said, watching in the mirror as Phil removed the stencil and light blue lines were left behind on his body. Dan saw his mouth drop open before it turned into a big smile. He toned the smile down when he noticed Phil looking. This was probably boring for the older male, someone getting a tattoo. “I uh. I like it. A lot.”

“Well, that’s good. Since it’s going to be on your body until you die. Or longer if you do what they do in Japan with the yakuza and have like, a tattoo shrine for after they die,” Phil said, his tone unbelievably cheerful for the topic he was talking about. Dan stared at Phil for a few seconds before his mouth just. Started talking.

“You pulling my chain here mate? What, do they just mummify the skin?”

“Pretty much,” Phil said as he gestured for Dan to sit down in the chair before turning back to the tattoo gun sitting on the table, sanitizing it, Dan assumed, by the amount of alcoholic fumes he could smell wafting over and around him now. “Because there was a time when it was super illegal and the connection between them and the yakuza was strong, but the art was so beautiful so they would just...”

Phil paused to make a motion like he was skinning something mid-air.

“That’s insane,” Dan said, feeling himself relax into the chair. He took another look at Phil’s arms, at the combination of traditional tattoos and some that were more modern, and wondered if that was something Phil was going to do when he died. Could someone donate their tattoos? Have themselves skinned and have the most fucked up inheritance known to man?

“Okay, I’m going to need you to lay on your side and raise your arm above your head. A little lower, I don’t want the skin pulled too taut,” Phil said, reaching out to adjust Dan’s arm. “Perfect. Okay, are you ready?”

Dan hesitated before nodding his head. He had never been more ready. “Yeah, let’s do this.”

Dan felt his elation leave his body after the first couple goes of the tattoo needle against his skin. “Jesus FUCK.”

Phil pulled the tattoo gun away immediately. “Are you okay?”   
  
“Jesus Christ,” Dan reiterated, feeling tears well up in his eyes at the residual pain. “I wasn’t expecting it to hurt THAT bad. Why didn’t you warn me?”

“I’m sorry,” Phil said, sounding genuinely sorry. “I know it really hurts.”

“Mate all your tattoos are on your fucking arms,” Dan said, feeling guilty at the way he was acting. He was acting a bit like a baby and he didn’t need to take it out on the guy about to do his tattoo.

“Actually, Phil said, pulling back and lifting up his shirt, showing off his right rib cage where a picture of a ship laid vibrant against the pale skin there. It looked like an old fashioned pirate ship but in a style more suited to the 1940s, Dan thought, taking in the purple clouds surrounding it as it crashed against blue-green waves below it. Underneath the picture, spread over two scrolls was the quote “smooth seas don’t make good sailors.” Dan wanted to lay a palm on it, feel if it was warm, followed the way it shifted when Phil tugged his shirt back down. “I do have one on my ribs. I just wasn’t...impulsive enough to make it the first place I tattooed.”

“I can’t have it anywhere else,” Dan said immediately. “My parents will see it if it’s on my arms or legs.”

“So do you plan on never going swimming again?” Phil asked. 

Dan felt himself freeze, because that...had never crossed his mind. It was why he had decided against a back tattoo - well that and not being able to see it as often, but it never occurred to him that maybe he shouldn’t do it on his ribs either.

“Now, we can keep going. It’s going to continue to hurt like a bitch,” Phil said, causing Dan’s eyes to widen. He didn’t want that, but he still wanted the tattoo. “Or we can move the tattoo. My recommendation is your thigh. It can be covered by a swimsuit and the pain tolerance isn’t nearly as bad as your ribs. It’s still going to hurt a bit but you seem to have some meat on your thighs so it won’t feel that intense.”

Dan felt himself flush and tried not to feel pleased that Phil noticed his body. It was his job, Dan argued with himself, but he still stretched a little on the tattoo chair trying to gauge the other’s interest. Dan watched as Phil watched his muscles stretch and felt a moment of vindication that was short-lived as Phil turned away.

“Well if you wait here, I’ll go reprint it at the original size,” Phil said as Dan nodded his head, wondering how much more time he had before Robert found him. He hoped Robert wouldn’t find him, especially  _ here _ , because then it would get back to his father and heaven knows that wasn’t an argument he wanted to get into. 

He sat up on the chair when Phil walked back in a few minutes later, who was wearing a big smile. “Lucky for us I kept the original pulled up! But let’s roll your trousers down and let’s get started.”

Dan and Phil spent the next few minutes trying to find the best place on Dan’s thigh to place the tattoo. Dan spent a lot of it distracted by Phil’s hands on his skin, praying he wouldn’t get hard in his tight boxer briefs. He nodded when he finally liked the placement, on his inner thigh, which was high enough up that no one would see it unless Dan wanted them to. Dan stared down at the stencil and wondered if he shouldn’t have added in a dagger or...anything really, but Dan figured that in fifty years when his father finally passed away, he could add to it then. But the stencil looked pretty against his skin and he couldn’t wait to see it there every day of his life. 

This time when the needle went against his skin, it didn’t feel as terrible. It still hurt a bit, he was getting stabbed, but instead of feeling like he was getting punched in the heart, the needle just felt like a less than pleasant vibration. God, he had no pain tolerance, Dan thought as he kept his eyes on the top of Phil’s head, who was using a stool to kneel in front of him. 

“So what does your tattoo mean?” Dan finally asked, wanted to take his attention off of the vibration against his skin and the silence in the air.

“Which one,” Phil answered on a laugh, his hands steady and sure against Dan’s thigh. It was relaxing, feeling it there. 

“The only one on your ribs,” Dan asked. “The quote on there was interesting.”

Phil was quiet for a minute and Dan was worried he had messed up. 

“I just really liked the quote,” Phil says after a moment, paused to wipe away at some of the excess ink on his thigh. 

“Well it looks really cool,” Dan said, making sure to smile when Phil looked up at him for a moment.

“Well, thank you,” Phil said, the corners of his smile visible to Dan from up above. “I’m glad you approve.”

“It’d been a little late now if I didn’t approve,” Dan said, throwing his head back on a particularly long line. “Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”

“You’re very vocal,” Phil said, his voice sounding teasing. Dan thought the teasing effect was almost lost on him as he felt the needle scrape against his skin. 

“I know,” Dan said, doing his best not to shift around too much in embarrassment. “My teachers at Et - college used to complain about how loud I was.” Dan didn’t know why he had stopped from saying he had gone to Eton College. It was a good school, a great school, he just didn’t want Phil to know just  _ how  _ posh he was. Or, heaven forbid, pick up on exactly who he was. 

“Ah, I feel that,” Phil said, wiping at Dan’s thigh with a towel again. “My teachers used to claim that I had my head too much in the clouds. Too many doodles and whatnot.” 

“Well they just didn’t realize they had an artiste in their midst,” Dan said, pronouncing artist with a bad French accent. It caused Phil to chuckle at least, so Dan was proud of his terrible accent choices. He winced at a particularly harsh drag from the tattoo needle.

“I guess they didn’t,” Phil said. His hands moving slower and the pressure of the tattoo needle didn’t feel like it was going as deep. Dan sighed in relief and looked down to see the progress on his thigh, but all he could see was Phil’s head bent over his thigh. He felt himself grip his own thigh because this was something out of his best fantasies (just with a lot less of a throbbing pain (or a much different throbbing pain)): a hot guy, bent in front of him, touching his soft thighs. Dan tipped his head back up and looked at the ceiling before bursting out into laughter.

“Oh did you finally see it,” Phil asked, casually like Dan wasn’t looking at the funniest goddamn collage of his life. Up on the ceiling above Phil’s chair, and only Phil’s, was a collage of motivational posters featuring dogs. There were hits such as a dog mid-run with the words “chase your dreams like they are tennis balls” and a picture of a puppy and a kitten sitting near each other with “work together” written at the bottom. Phil had to pull his gun away because Dan was shaking so hard.

“Oi, oi, mate,” Phil said, annoyance bleeding into his tone. “You need to relax if you want this done right.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Dan said, giggling, then taking a moment to compose himself. “I just. You’re a tattoo shop and you have that on your ceiling.”

“What else were you expecting to see on the ceiling,” Phil asked, going back to work as Dan stopped vibrating in laughter. Dan didn’t know how he could miss Phil’s hand on his thigh, but he had missed Phil’s warm palm touching him. 

“Nothing, to be honest, but if anything maybe a topless bird on a motorcycle. Something more tattoo-y,” Dan said wincing as Phil pressed down a little hard.

“Sorry to disappoint mate,” Phil said, doing what felt like 700 more lines on his thigh on silence before standing up and stretching. “Okay, we’re done!”

“That’s it?” Dan asked, surprised at how quick it was. He was honestly expecting it to take so much longer than 45 minutes.

“Yeah, it was just lettering for four words,” Phil said and he turned back to Dan with a smile, a bottle of ointment, and a bandage. “Okay, if you want to stand up, we’ll get you wrapped.”

Phil gently applied some ointment to his thigh causing Dan to look back up at the ceiling with the motivational dogs to avoid hyper-focusing on Phil’s hand smoothing across his thigh. He looked fondly in the mirror, ignoring the slight redness and swollen skin, to read the words “ _ Three Cheers For Tyranny _ ” that were now tattooed into his skin. 

“I love it,” Dan breathed out. He reached down to run his fingers over the skin before he was gently stopped by Phil’s fingers wrapping around his. 

“Can’t touch it just yet,” Phil said gently. “But after you take the bandage in about 2 hours, it’s almost free reign. Well, after a gentle cleansing.”

Phil went on to explain his aftercare as he bandaged him up: how he needed to gentle when he washed it, how he needed to apply an ointment after he cleansed it, how he needed to keep applying it, no bathing or swimming for two to three weeks, and so on. Phil most have seen Dan was pacing out a little bit because he handed Dan a handout as he led him out to the front where Robert was waiting. 

“Heyyyyyy Robert,” Dan said, waving nervously before turning back to Phil. “How much do I owe you?”   
  
“Sir, we need to hurry or you’ll miss your four o’clock,” Robert said, staring at Dan. The only indication of his anger at being ignored for hours was his tone and the glare that Dan wilted under. He felt bad, Robert had been his favourite bodyguard so far, giving him so much freedom and Dan really hoped that today wouldn’t get Robert in trouble. 

“Let me pay and we’ll be on our way,” Dan said, turning back to Phil with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, duty calls. Um, how much was it?”

“£100,” Phil said, his head ducked down but Dan could see Phil smiling, his tongue bitten between his teeth. Dan pulled out his wallet and pulled out the  £100 plus an additional 20 for the tip. Phil smiled at him and put the money in the till before digging under the counter for a piece of cardstock. 

“Here’s my card,” Phil said, handing it over with a smile. “In case you ever want that topless girl on a bike.” 

“Oh, you know me,” Dan said, flexing an arm in Phil’s direction. “So manly.”

“Next time, we’ll get it on your ribcage, yeah,” Phil said, his tone entirely teasing. Dan rolled his eyes at him as Robert cleared his throat. Dan shoved the business card in his pocket, swearing to himself that he’d look at it later that night. 

“Sorry, I really have to go,” Dan apologized again. 

“It’s okay. Hope to see you again,” Phil said cheerfully towards Dan’s back. 

Dan let Robert lead him down the sidewalk to the car, laying into him about not answering his phone the entire ride back to campus. He tried to look contrite, but in the backseat he pulled out the business card, hissing when he brushed against the tattoo while digging around his deep pockets. He didn’t think Robert was impressed with him. He looked at it, the deep blue with Phil’s name on it as well as his Twitter and Facebook handles. Dan immediately pulled up his Twitter and followed Phil, trying to hide his smile at the handle of AmazingPhil. 

He was unable to fight back the smile when less than five minutes later he got a follow back. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the "royalty" square on my PFFBingo card. It's a little loose on the royalty part, but it's something that while I was writing, decided I wanted to develop into a series at a later time. lol I also wanted to experiment with a meet-cute. 
> 
> i'd love to thank [itsmyusualphannie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmyusualday/pseuds/itsmyusualphannie) and [patchworklove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchworklove) for beta reading this fic. I'd also love to thank [starboydjh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starboydjh) for letting me use a tattoo they came up with and actually got on their person.


End file.
